


Bigger Than a Cadillac

by Missy



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Car Sex, M/M, Porn Battle, Smut, Suits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-30
Updated: 2011-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam shows Michael just how grateful he is to be alive after they survive their latest misadventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bigger Than a Cadillac

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XI, Prompt: Burn Notice, Sam/Mike, pinstripes

It all starts with the suit. Sam in a pinstripe suit and his shades, leaning back in a chair, lazily grinning at Michael. He looked a little self-satisfied, but then again any man who just wiggled the safety code for a nuclear device from a very angry-looking cleaning woman using only his charm deserved to feel confident.

“I’m gonna buy you a beer for this, Sam,” Michael declared, once the bomb was defused and the world safe once more. The late-morning sun poured into the front seat of the charger and glittered off the front of his sunglasses, casting his eyes a shade darker than their normal color.

Sam grinned, leaning a little closer. “Who says I want a beer?”

Michael’s eyebrow lifted skyward. “This is new,” he said softly.

“Yeah. Something about staring down a ticking nuke makes you think of the things you’ve never tried.” He smirked winningly, cupping Michael’s chin.

Michael leaned into Sam’s touch. Did he want this? Hell, why DIDN’T he want it? Whatever charm Sam had worked beautifully on Michael – he leaned into his touch and accepted the caress of his tongue.

Sam’s growl was possessive – his fingers authoritative as he unbuttoned Michael’s shirt and fondled the firm, smooth chest beneath. Michael’s body gave in – his arm went around Sam’s neck as his friend tangled his tongue around Michael’s, his hands ripping at buttons and pulling zippers, trying to pull back the refined surface to reveal the hard, determined man beneath.

Michael sucked Sam’s tongue into his mouth, teased the underside of it, then ripped away from the embrace to bite his chin. Sam groaned and reached for Michael’s fly, freeing his cock with ease.

“Nice,” Sam murmured, running his warm, work-worn hands down the length of Michael’s cock, making his lover’s eyes drift closed. “Wish I could take it all in my ass.”

Michael’s mind sped as he tried to think of a solution. “Maybe we could rig some lube. I…”

“Spit’s not a great idea when it comes to anal. Dries out too quickly.” Sam leaned forward and bit Michael’s lip. “Why don’t we take the pressure off the easy way? Gotta make it quick,” he said ruefully. “Anyone could see…”

Sam cupped Michael’s palm and pressed it firmly to Sam’s still-clad crotch. Michael grinned at Sam’s soft hiss and reached over to unzip his fly. “You’ve done this.” He struggled to get Sam’s silk boxers open and pull out his cock.

“I lived through the seventies,” Sam shrugged, slowly running his hand over Michael’s cock in a slow rhythm. “I think you know what to do with mine, virgin or not.”

“I’ve touched cock before,” Michael shrugged, then stared at Sam’s cock before wrapping his hand around it. “Impressive,” he said dryly. By that, he meant that Sam was thickly hung and all but dripping for attention. He matched Sam’s motions and began to speed up when Sam sped up.

“Wait, since when have you ever…God, don’t stop…” He bit his bottom lip. “Who did you jerk off?”

“I’ve had a couple…uh Sam…of covers….bathhouses.” Sam did something indescribably wonderful to the sensitive spot that lay just below the head of his cock. Michael’s teeth clashed together and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Sounds like a…wet dream…” Sam breathed, his hand nearly a blur on Michael’s cock. “Have you ever sucked cock?”

“No…never…wanted to..” He stared at Sam’s, at the dark pink length, at his hand rushing up against the skin, at the throbbing heat of him. “Never had to.”

Sam gives him another grin. “Mike,” the word was gravely, serious, “you don’t have to now.”

The answer was obvious. He wanted to, would, for an instant, die to. Awkwardly, he tried to twist himself toward Sam and align his mouth with the throbbing, needy cock, but the Charger’s seats prohibited such motion. Sam let out a disgruntled groan.

“When I get you back to the loft,” he declared, resuming his stroking motions, “I’m gonna show you how a navy man sucks cock.”

“Forget about the future,” Michael ordered, regaining his own rhythm. “I just want this.”

They stared into each other’s faces, sweating through their open cotton shirts, their classy jackets, their rucked-up tee-shirts. When Sam came his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth dropping open and his nostrils flaring, his release striping the dashboard. Michael followed, a series of wet pulses staining Sam’s pinstriped suit, one drop bisecting Michael’s discarded sunglasses down the bridge of the nose.

They held each other in the heat of the car, disheveled and glorying in the passion of it all. Finally – sweaty and exhausted – they started righting their clothing.

“Next time,” Michael declared, wiping his sunglasses on his sleeve and slipping them back into place before slipping himself back into his pants, “I want you to fuck me.”

Sam grinned and leaned over. His tongue shot out and he flicked a stripe of Michael’s cream from the sleeve of his suit. “Anything , Mikey. ” He picked up his own sunglasses and put them on.

Michael grinned cockily in response as Sam dressed himself and they rode off into the Miami sunset together.


End file.
